


Breathe

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 06:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13382247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Breath, breathe, breath





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING
> 
> Originally posted to tumblr for the prompt "Don't fucking touch me!" for zoeymorningstar

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

_He repeated it in the back of his head like a mantra._

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

_He couldn’t breathe._

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

_It was hard to breathe when one’s arms and chest were bound tightly with sturdy rope.  It was hard to breathe when one was lying on one’s stomach on cement floor.  It was hard to breathe when one had a gag in one’s mouth and a cock up one’s arse._

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

_He knew what he was getting into with this job.  He had been captured before.  He had been beaten, tortured, starved, and  he’d even had a few close calls, but this was the first time that they-_

_Breathe, breathe, breath_

_He hated the man.  He hated himself.  He hated that he had been so careless to let this happen.  He hated himself for the bulge in his pants that he couldn’t help.  He hated everything._

_Breath, breath, breathe_

_The thrusts were getting harder and faster and he was in more and more pain and there were tears in his eyes and there was nothing he could do to stop this._

_Breathe, breathe, brea-_

“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!”  He jolted awake.  He felt himself pulling away quickly from the arm around his waist.  He ripped the layers of blankets off of him, suddenly unable to breathe.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

“M-Myke?”  Gregory sits next to him, a clear look of worry in his eye as he scoots away farther, just on the edge of the bed.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

“I-I’m sorry Gregory,” he pants on the verge of sobbing.  “It’s just the-”

“Nightmares, I know.  It’s okay.  Never apologize.”

He sits there, panting and sobbing as a crack of light seeps through the blinds of Gregory’s flat.

“Just breathe.”  The words come out of his mouth as though he’s done this a million times before, and he’ll do it a million more times.  He’s sitting there, shirtless in nothing but his boxers, the sun hitting his chest and beads of sweat from Mycroft’s warmth trickling down his neck.  “It’s okay.  No one’s gonna hurt you.”

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

Mycroft moved to the other edge of the bed  the voice in his head telling him to breathe.  Gregory repeating that he needed to breathe.

_Breathe, breathe, breathe_

He tried to breathe, he tried to stop crying.  They sat there for hours.  They would both be late to work.  Eventually the voice stopped telling him to breathe.  He didn’t need it anymore.  He had another voice to tell him to breathe, one outside his head.

_Breathe, breath-_

“Breathe, Mycroft.  Breathe”

Breath, breathe,  **breathe.**


End file.
